


Pockets

by sasuskies



Category: Naruto
Genre: Blank Period, F/M, idk if it's canon compliant but whatever, sasuke is trying his best ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24391375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasuskies/pseuds/sasuskies
Summary: They've been beginning for quite some time.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke
Comments: 29
Kudos: 198





	Pockets

Sakura’s avoiding him, for the first time. Sasuke’s looking for her, for the first time. 

She’s swamped at the hospital which makes an easy excuse to slip out of get-togethers she knows he’ll be dragged into. The excuse is at her lips before Ino even asks, or raises an unbelieving brow, or sniffs closer to read her best friend’s lie. Sakura just keeps signing the paperwork stacked on her desk.

It’s not that she doesn’t want to see him. Everything the team has done, they’ve done to bring him home. It was their driving force. It was what made her come back to the training field every single day when all she wanted to do was get more sleep. It was what made her stronger. In a way, she has Sasuke to thank.

She _wants_ to see him - she feels better knowing he’s back with them, knowing their family is complete again, knowing he isn’t out somewhere, in danger and surrounded by enemies - it’s just that she doesn’t know what to say.

She’ll welcome him home, and then what? She’s been thinking and rethinking and overthinking all the possible ways it could go wrong, how he would react. 

Then she realizes she doesn’t know Sasuke now. 

She knew him when they were twelve: he had scabby knees and a superiority complex. He had dry wit, a smart mouth, and a nasty temper. He liked it when she was explaining a mission strategy or what they can and can’t eat in a forest. He didn’t like it when she and Naruto got hurt. That was when he felt the most useless. He acted annoyed when she tripped over her feet to impress him. He had a good heart, under all the pretense. She might have been obnoxious as a child, but she saw that clear as day. 

She knows him in the battlefield: his actions precise, eyes calculating, speed deadly. He wields his katana like another arm, fluid and graceful. He flicks his wrist to unsheathe it, blade singing as it comes alive. His movements are quick and he becomes a blur, but even though that may be, people still feel his power and make room. The battlefield is his once he steps in it.

She does not know him now. 

His trials and his pardons have come and gone, and she was sure to fight for him in the council. Now he is free, on probation, back in Konoha. Sakura can’t say everything is normal when it’s not. She cannot erase the years they’ve been scouring the earth looking for him, she cannot erase the feeling of his hands wrapping around her neck, she cannot erase his entire childhood spent spiraling down a cesspit of hate. 

There are things she thinks about a lot, and there are things she cannot say. She cannot say how foolish she feels: hoping for ages to bring him back, only to avoid him when he is.

The low demand of missions makes everyone in their age group idle. They’re all tittering across the village, hoping to find something to pass their time. Everyone except Sakura, who has the hospital.

The patients are mostly undergoing rehab, with a few sprinkled cases that are being monitored closely. It certainly isn’t as busy as it was, but it keeps her mind off her teammates. The paperwork can be ignored, but she does them all in hopes that she’ll finish too late in the night to have time to see him. 

She pushes open the hospital doors at 11 o’clock, stretching her muscles, thoroughly satisfied with her work. Her back is aching so bad after sitting all day. She sighs. This is what Tsunade-shishou was going on about. She closes her eyes, basking in the glow of the moonlight. Peacetime is nice and slow. Sakura decides she likes the world this way. 

“You’re avoiding me,” comes a voice. She whirls to see Sasuke leaning on a lamppost. He looks almost translucent under the same moon. Hands tucked in his pockets, stance uncaring. It’s the look he wore when they were genin when he wanted to show just how apathetic he could be. It makes her feel a little easier in his presence. 

If only by a little. “I’m not.” 

She expects him to shrug, go back to what he was doing beforehand, and leave it at that. Conversation never came easy to them. Sakura says too much, she’s learned, and she knows that annoys him. He doesn’t say enough. She still doesn’t know what to do, so they stare at each other in suffocating silence.

Sakura doesn’t make a move to go. He doesn’t either. When she thinks of finally waving goodbye, he stands up straighter and walks towards her. 

He stops only when they are a couple of inches apart. 

It makes her mouth a little dry to see him so close. 

“Sakura,” he says. After a pause, “I’m sorry.”

He told her he was sorry in the Valley of the End, where her face was so wet with tears she couldn’t see straight. But this one, this time, on the empty street with the flickering lamplight, this is when she realizes, ah, they finally brought him home.

“Hi.” 

“Hello.” 

It’s Sunday morning - a rare day off - and Sakura knocks on Sasuke’s apartment door before she could talk herself out of her own decision.

Sunday morning finds Sasuke opening the door bleary eyed, hair a mess, and with a trace of dried up drool on his cheek. The ‘hello’ he sends her is absolutely out of sorts. He looks like a cornered bird.

“I brought you tomatoes. I hope now isn’t a bad time.” She’s never seen him this disheveled. Or sleepy. 

“I’m sorry.” He says. For what, she has no clue. He moves aside and swings the door wider to let her in. 

Sakura places the bag on the kitchen table and is then faced with the realization that she has nothing to do next. Her hands fidget at her side. Aware of the fact that she probably looks like an idiot, she shoves them into the pockets of her jacket and lets them fidget there. “Um - I’ll leave then, Sasuke. Thanks for the, um, welcome.”

They greet one another at the market now. It’s a generous relationship. Sakura tries hard to find a word to define it. 

She was crazy about him when they were children. She thought of him all her teenage years, placed him on a pedestal, chased around his trails, hoping to find him and bring him home. Then she tried to kill him. 

Still, even after all that, as stupid as it sounds, she cares about him, finds herself constantly wondering if he’s eaten.

She settles on ‘ _acquaintance’_. It’s a dumbed down version of what they really are, but it’s good enough. 

They’re acquaintances trying to be friends.

Naruto helps. A lot. And he isn’t even aware exactly how much. All he probably knows is that he wants his squad back and he’ll do whatever it takes to get it. He arranges for them to eat dinner together, to train together, do D-ranks together. He’s the glue that keeps everything from falling apart. Sakura, who wants her squad back just as much, acknowledges she and Sasuke would be lost without him. 

He makes the conversation a little less painful when they’re in each other’s company. It’s hard, even with Naruto, but Sakura is trying her best, and she can feel Sasuke is too. 

Sasuke’s trial has been closed for a while now, the punishment being uncountable hours of community service and an extended probation. Not that anyone is taking missions only a few months after the war.

So Sakura spends her Sundays dropping by Sasuke’s apartment to check if he’s doing okay under the pretense of dropping off the extra cherry tomatoes she gets at a discount.

He usually thanks her and then she goes. The farthest they’ve gone was a stunted conversation about growing plants and where Kakashi-sensei was.

The fifth Sunday is different.

“Do you want breakfast?” He calls just as she makes her way out the door. 

“No, thank you. I’ve eaten.” That’s a lie. Her stomach chooses the same time to grumble and expose her for the sham that she is.

Sasuke only looks at her. It’s enough to send her on the defensive. “Look, I overslept.”

“Sakura,” he says. “Sit.”

So she sits. She clears her throat, out of being uncomfortable if nothing else. Twelve year-old Sakura would have been ecstatic. She’s sitting in the kitchen with Uchiha Sasuke making them breakfast. Eighteen year-old Sakura doesn’t know where to put her hands. She runs it through her hair a couple of times, she tries finding pieces of paper in her pockets, then finally settles on clasping them together on the table. 

If he needs help working in the kitchen because of his arm, he doesn’t show it. His pride is something legendary, so she doesn’t even begin to mention the idea of helping him out. 

Sit still, she reprimands herself. But if she does sit still, she’s faced with Sasuke’s back as he goes about making her breakfast. She doesn’t want to see his muscles, lean and taught, stretch as he cooks an egg. She doesn’t stare because if she does he’ll know, and it’ll be embarrassing for both of them. Then they’ll sit in uncomfortable, _embarrassed_ silence. 

Sakura settles in looking around his apartment instead. It seems more lived in than the last time she’s been here. There’s clean, folded laundry by the bathroom door and a pair of slippers by the bedroom. It still looks immaculate, but there are now reminders that Sasuke is home.

Once he finally finishes, he places a bowl of rice and fish in front of her and another in the place across. Sakura doesn’t know why she’s surprised when he sits down. 

“Itadakimasu.” He says, digging into his food, as if them eating together was a daily occurence. 

“Itadakimasu.” She quickly follows, then picks up the chopsticks. 

She’s about to take a bite when he moves to give a part of his egg to her. She flinches when she sees his hand come near. He stops halfway, egg dangling midpoint between their bowls. 

For the first time in her life she sees Sasuke hesitate. She doesn’t see it as much as feel it, though, in the slight tremble of his wrist, the fact that he looked down right away. No, to anyone else, Sasuke is calm, collected. But Sakura can read people. And Sasuke may be a god to others but he’s still Sasuke to her.

He places it gently on top of her rice, trying to be as unobtrusive of her space as possible. She looks at him, hoping to convey an apology but his attention is already back to his breakfast. 

“Who taught you how to cook?” She asks.

“My mother.” Sasuke replies. 

A silence. It seems like she really can’t say anything right. It’s funny how she fought so hard to bring back a boy she doesn’t even know to talk to. 

“She taught me how to make dumplings.” He says, completely unknowing of the inner turmoil that’s going on inside her head. “I’ll make them for you some time.”

“What?” She can’t help but cough. “I mean, that’d be nice… How’s your arm?”

He raises his stump. “Hn. Not an arm.”

She rolls her eyes. 

She put herself in charge of their rehabilitation right after the war ended. He takes to his new body better than she expected him to. There’s a firm sort of tenacity in the way he tries to reorient himself and his movements. It’s only been a handful of weeks but his recovery is impeccable. Sasuke, in his fashion, wraps it all up with dry insults.

“You know it’s still an arm, Sasuke.”

He hums and goes back to his food. 

“I’m taking the jounin promotion exam.” She feels like he should know. 

He looks up. “Where?”

“It’s in Suna.”

“Aren’t they rebuilding?”

“Yes, but the repairs are almost done. And the exam isn’t for another couple of months. I’ll have time to train again.”

Sasuke snorts. “You’ll pass anyway.”

“You’re not sure of that.” Sakura eats another mouthful of his gohan. He really _can_ cook.

He stares at her, disbelieving. “The examiners are idiots if they don’t promote you.”

“Getting promoted to jounin is a hard feat, Sasuke.” She reprimands him like she does Naruto. She’s never reprimanded Sasuke before, but the boys have grown too alike in the fact that they’re both incredibly arrogant. Her temper also finds itself less selective over the years. “You can’t just take the exam without proper training, let alone pass. Besides, what good has overestimation ever done anyone?”

Sasuke doesn’t dignify her with a proper response. Instead, he shakes his head slowly, a small smile playing on his lips. “Annoying.”

Sakura sees Sasuke more often and even she can’t pinpoint why. It’s like he’s everywhere all the time. His community service entails working for the Hokage, doing his biddings and proving that he isn’t a threat to the village anymore. Mostly the Rokudaime just keeps him at his side like sentinel, not bothering to find him an actual job. Kakashi-sensei has always had a soft spot for Sasuke, which now suits the whole team just fine.

Naturally, she sees him because the hospital requires her to run to the tower at least five times a day. But the odd part is she always seems to be bumping into him outside too. 

She doesn’t know anyone that goes to the library other than herself and Shizune. But there he is, scouring through scrolls in the seventeenth aisle. 

Sakura didn’t bother softening her footsteps, thinking no one was in anyway, which is probably why Sasuke is already aware of her presence before she’s aware of his. 

“Sakura.” He says, focusing her attention towards him. 

“What are you…”

“Resting.” He passively explains.

She understands. “Ah.” 

He cocks his brow. 

“Tsunade-shishou asked me to get some scrolls.” Sakura picks one up as soon as she sees it. “It’s quiet here.”

Sasuke snorts derisively. “Most peaceful place in the whole village.”

Understanding what he means, she makes a move to leave. “Hey, I better go. I’ll tell Kakashi-sensei you have a rehab session at the hospital today.”

“Sakura.”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

Sakura smiles. “It’s fine. Don’t forget to stop by the hospital for real tomorrow though.”

“Why do you do it?” He asks one day as they’re sitting in Ichiraku. It’s just the two of them. Just her, at first really. She was hoping to grab a quick dinner and head back home, and Naruto’s rubbed off on her so much that all she could think about was miso ramen. She’s been smelling broth the entire day. 

“Do what?” 

“Heal people.”

She was surprised to see Sasuke out all by himself at night. Even more surprised that he just plopped himself on the stool right next to her and ordered a bowl of his own. 

She mulls his words over, ignoring the crude way he phrases them. “It’s because of you and Naruto, really.”

He says nothing, which, in his language, is prodding her on. 

“I felt useless next to you guys. I felt as if both of you just got so strong so fast that I couldn’t keep up. You went lengths to protect me in missions.” She hesitates but continues, “when you left... it woke me up. I couldn’t sit around anymore. So I begged Tsunade-shishou to take me in as her apprentice.”

Sasuke doesn’t respond. Her words ring in her ears. Naruto knows her sentiments well enough, but this is the first time she told Sasuke - the first time he asked. He looks as if he’s mincing over what she said. The thought of it makes her slightly self-conscious

Taeuchi-san comes back with the extra noodles she ordered, pulling her away from her thoughts. She accepts it gladly and dumps it in her bowl. It’s something she has always done as a kid: eating the noodles and leaving the broth, only to order seconds. There’s always a lack of meat during the following round, but the hospital drains her so much she can ignore it. Being a shinobi has taught her that everything tastes like a five-star meal when you’re hungry. 

It isn’t exactly attractive, devouring more than a bowl of ramen, but she’s long accepted Sasuke’s never going to like her that way. Her hunger trumps the need to impress him tonight.

She watches a pair of chopsticks placing slices of meat on top of her once again full bowl. Like at that time in his kitchen, only this time she doesn’t flinch away and he’s better composed.

“Sakura,” Sasuke starts as he fishes out another chashu from his bowl to put into hers. “You were never useless.”

She can’t deny it’s nice to hear that from someone like Sasuke. He isn’t the type to lie, she knows, but she still doesn’t believe him. Even though his words do quell her long standing insecurity somehow. Sakura continues eating, ignoring the butterflies in her belly she thought only attacked 12 year old girls.

Sometimes she forgets that it has only been a little more than a year since Team Seven was a fractured mess. Naruto was being hunted down, Sasuke wanted to destroy the village, Kakashi couldn’t look at her, and Sai wasn’t someone to be trusted. It’s hard to forget, considering how difficult it was to even be with each other a couple of months before, but in the moments where everything seems so fine, so easy, when it’s hot out and they’re all sitting in the cramped dango place, it almost disappears from her mind. 

She finds that relearning each other gets easier with time. 

But some cuts are too deep to heal. They throb, they pulsate, they fester. They scream and curse and bring pain. 

She’s forgiven him, but the memory of Sasuke’s arm tearing through her chest, even if it was just an illusion, it’s something she still can’t shake. Sometimes, when she knows he can’t see, her hand comes to rub her neck, a reminder that is different now than what it was. When she closes her eyes she can still smell the scent of the air on that bridge in Iron. They’ve tried to kill each other two times too many in the same way this village has tried to kill him. 

She storms into Kakashi-sensei’s office once she hears the news, anger exploding with every step. 

The shinobi in the Hokage tower make way, rightfully. They don't even dare to ask her to wait for the Rokudaime to clear up his schedule. 

She swings the door with a force that’s necessary. It’s so Kakashi will know it’s her, and so that he’ll know what she’s about to say. 

She dives right into it anyway.

“You can’t be serious.” She demands. “You can’t possibly pardon the elders after what they’ve done -”

It takes her a moment to realize Sasuke is already in the room. He’s standing in front of their former sensei, back straight, eyes forward. He turns to face her only slightly. 

This Sasuke isn’t Sasuke on the Ichiraku stool. But this Sasuke isn’t the Sasuke she’s seen years ago either, in the land of Iron, trying to put a sword through her heart. This Sasuke is angry, betrayed, and livid - she doesn’t blame him one bit - but he is also resigned, almost defeated.

“I’ll leave, Kakashi.” He says.

He doesn’t mean the office. Her throat constricts. “You can’t.”

She expects him to ignore her. She knows Sasuke on the Ichiraku stool won’t, the same way Sasuke in the fish market holding her grocery bag will tell her that it isn’t her fault. But this isn’t that Sasuke. This Sasuke has a kunai lodged at a major artery, and the village is doing nothing but pushing it deeper. 

He doesn’t ignore her, though. He never quite does what she expects him to anymore. Instead he passes by her stunned form, a “thank you, Sakura,” so low Kakashi won’t be able to hear, and closes the door. 

“There was nothing I could do.” The Hokage sighs defeatedly.

Sakura pushes forward. “He doesn’t deserve this. Those people ruined his family, his childhood. They killed his brother. His parents.”

“It isn’t a matter of right or wrong, Sakura -”

“It _is_ a matter of right or wrong.” She all but screams. “And you’re wrong. You’re supposed to be on our side, sensei. You’re supposed to be on _his_ side.”

“I was driven up a wall. There’s no excuse. I want justice as much as you do but those two pull strings that could destroy our village.”

She should understand. She knows she understands.The problem is she doesn’t want to. She wants to shake and resist like Naruto. Naruto who’d be in here with her if he wasn’t on a diplomatic mission to Kiri. The elders may just be advisors, but they deal with secrets, and secrets could kill as good as any other weapon.

She leaves the office once she has nothing more to say. 

Sakura hasn’t felt this disgusted in a long time. 

Sasuke is waiting for her outside. Just like he was those months ago in front of the hospital. Except it’s the afternoon, and there are people, and he will leave again. 

“It isn’t your fault.” He says.

It doesn’t stop her from crying in the middle of the street. If nothing, it propels her even more. 

“And don’t think of doing anything stupid.” He prods on, looking at anywhere but her. She can’t even see him properly. She covers her face with her hands, shoulders shaking in an attempt to lessen the sounds she makes. 

He means: _don’t think of betraying your village and killing the elders yourself._

They stay like that for a couple of minutes. 

She won’t if he tells her not to. Sakura tries her best to wipe away her tears as if nothing happened. Look as inconspicuous as possible, and walk on. He falls in pace beside her. 

Before she knows it he’s led her to the old Uchiha district. It’s all his, Sakura remembers in an afterthought. An eighth of the village belongs to him as the sole heir and survivor. He grabbed her elbow when she was about to make a turn to her apartment, dragging her to the other side of the village instead. The contact made her blush, one that she quickly suppressed. He let go of her after they turned the curve. 

She followed him (she would follow him anywhere) until they were entering the vine-draped gate of the compound. It’s in bad shape. She doesn’t blame him for not wanting to live here. 

He opens the gate with a push, kicking the untrimmed grass obstructing their path. 

Sakura walks beside him, looking for any signs of emotion on his face. His jaw is tense, but that’s all. 

They’re standing on the edge of a creaking dock at the end of a lake. In the afternoon light, he looks eighteen, like her, like they’re supposed to be. He’s still handsome, something that made her worship him when they were children. 

Now she acknowledges the fact with resigned acceptance. 

He sits down, one leg dangling, and she follows suit. 

“That’s my house.” He points to the east to the biggest house in the compound. She remembers that his father used to be the clan head.

“What were they like? Your parents?” She asks.

“My mother was kind.” He says after a while. “Patient. My aunts used to say I look like her. My father, he’s stern. Cold. He liked my brother better.”

She sees the fondness in his eyes. “But you still love him.”

Sasuke shrugs. “He taught me lots of things.”

“When are you leaving? Naruto comes back tomorrow.”

“Next week. I have to settle the mission briefing.”

His mission is a C level. One that could be done in a week. She doesn’t expect him to be back anytime this year. 

“I hate that they did this to you.”

“Hn. I told you it isn’t your fault.”

“I feel like an accomplice. The more I just sit and do nothing -”

“Sakura.”

“What?”

“The reason I’m going - it’s because I need it. To atone for my sins.”

“The things you did were -”

“Unacceptable,” he shakes his head. “I'm a criminal.”

“So are they! And they aren’t atoning for anything.”

In these moments where the world was completely still, and there is only the sound of far away birds, it’s when she feels like she could fall in love with Sasuke all over again. To her surprise, he smiles. Sasuke looks at the sunset, then at her with something tender she’s never seen on him before. She doesn’t know what she did or said to deserve it. He flicks her forehead in one sharp motion. “I’ll come back.”

Sakura sends him off at the gates, asks him to take her with him, all sense be damned. The smile is back again, only smaller, like a secret, with their teammates around them. 

He’ll come back.

There are facts that Sakura ticks off in a list before she drifts off to sleep. She had 22 patients under her care today, her hair is getting past her shoulders (she doesn’t want to trim it off just yet), and she is still in love with Uchiha Sasuke.

Sakura realizes that love at eighteen is a steady thing, one that she will keep to herself and cherish when the moment allows her. She doesn’t expect him to return her affections, not anymore, but she will continue to love him all the same, silently, strongly. It has never been a question since the very beginning and it will never be a question until the end; after everything they’ve been through, everything they’ve done.

She loves him for reasons that don’t involve sight, or sound, or touch. It’s grown far more dangerous now that it’s this way, Sakura thinks. It is like the creeping ivy on the abandoned gates, holding on and wrapping its cords around her, never letting go. 

He comes home at the changing of the seasons. The arrival of snow brings him to her. It delivers him right at her doorstep, really. 

“You’re back!” She beams. She moves to hug him, hesitates, thinks about whether he’ll be comfortable about it, then gets left in an awkward stance between the door frame. She clears her throat and takes a step back. “It’s cold. Come -”

Sasuke’s arm wraps around her, his head lands in the curve of her neck, and his fingers grip the fabric of her nightshirt. 

She forgets what it feels like to breathe. 

“Sakura,” he exhales. 

She’d stumble, if it wasn’t for him keeping her steady. 

Oh.

Oh.

_Oh._

He finally pulls back. It allows her to see him properly for the first time in ten months. His hair has gotten longer, curling around the nape of his neck. It’s pushed to the side, concealing his mismatched eye. His clothes are travel worn, dusty from the road. Still he looks like Sasuke, but brighter than he has ever looked in Konoha, less weary, less guilty. And he clutches her like he’s truly missed her. 

“Come inside,” she says softly, hand coming to stroke his cheek. 

He nods.

“Y’know, Sakura-chan, you should take a day-off more often.” 

“Stop taking my noodles, Naruto. Why’s that?”

“Because obviously you look very tired. And the bastard’s always in a better mood when you hang out with us. It’s creepy how he smiles a lot more. Ow! That hurt. But forget about him, _I’m_ in a better mood when you hang out with us.”

“You have, like, two moods. Why don’t you just order some more of your own? _Why_ do you have to take mine?”

“You know the waiting time’s too long, Sakura-chan. Old man Taeuchi should seriously consider getting some more help.”

“You should work here yourself.”

“I might.”

She’s swamped at the hospital, and this time it isn’t an excuse to avoid Sasuke. She’d rather be with him now that he’s back but she can’t even take time off to pee. Sakura hasn't encountered a mirror in almost 48 hours and has been on her feet for just as long. She might have already forgotten how to separate day and night too. 

With Tsunade-shishou going on what she calls ‘excursion trips’ and with the village steadily taking on missions again, it’s the Sakura that somehow gets saddled with everything. Medic training, paperwork, actual patients. It certainly isn’t as busy as it was during the war, but back then Tsunade had Sakura and Shizune. Now Sakura only has Mayuki. The girl’s a natural genius, but she's only been in the field for a year. 

“Sakura-sama,” Mayuki comes up to her while she’s checking charts. “I’ll take over from here. Please get some rest.”

Sakura smiles. “Have you gotten any sleep?”

“Yes, I just arrived from home.”

“Okay.” She gives in, her sluggish movements about to betray her. Mayuki is capable, with sure hands and quick judgement. “I’ll only take a few hours. Good night, Mayuki.”

“Good night, Sakura-sama.”

The younger girl didn’t bother to correct her, she thought, when she told her good night. It isn’t night anymore, it seemed. The sky is starting to brighten, sunrise underway. 

Sasuke is right beside the hospital door.

“Hello,” she greets in question. _What are you doing here at this hour_ remains unsaid. 

“Let’s go.” He says.

She doesn’t know if it’s the chakra depletion or the fatigue but she can’t quite understand him. “What?”

He repeats himself, getting grouchier by the second. 

“Were you waiting for me?”

“Hn. Do you plan on moving?”

She isn’t the least bit affected by his tone. “Help me, will you? I might collapse.”

“Annoying,” he says, but still moves to wrap her arm around his torso. “I don’t know why you let them overwork you like that.”

She takes a few steps, the strain from the last few hours finally catching up on her. She can’t help but lean more of her weight into his support. She doesn’t know when they started touching like this. It isn’t a frequent occurrence, naturally, but the few moments when they’re close makes her feel better than anything else ever can. A year ago, she flinched when he got too near her. Now she only smiles and hums. “It’s my job.”

“Annoying,” he says again.

“Yes, Sasuke-kun.” She smiles even more at the sound of the old nickname. It feels like a whole lifetime since she called him that. Come to think of it, she can’t even remember the exact conversation when he turned from ‘Sasuke-kun’ to ‘Sasuke’. “It might be too late, but can you close your eyes?”

“Why?”

“I haven’t showered in two days. I look like a ghost.”

Sasuke makes a noise at the back of his throat she can only consider an agreement. She opens her eyes again. 

“We went the wrong way.” She wails.

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’? I’m very tired but I still know where -”

“My apartment’s nearer.”

She crashes on his couch as soon as she lands, not staying awake long enough to hear him tell her that she should sleep on the bed. 

Sakura wakes up to onigiri and a note that says to heat it on the stove. 

Life in the village is brighter with Sasuke around. 

He seems lighter too. Like he’s carrying less weight on his shoulders. It makes her happy knowing his travels have done him good. 

They are sitting in training ground 2, the biggest one, sweaty and panting. He looks as beaten up as Sakura feels. She’s sitting slumped over a tree while Sasuke is hunched over in front of her, holding on to its bark with his good arm to prop himself up. 

It took them a long time to be able to train together again. He was training exclusively with Naruto before he left. The arrangement was fine with her. She wasn’t anywhere near ready for him to touch her again, not in combat. He seems aware of that. Hell, it took them a long time to truly talk to each other again.

Now they don’t need Naruto to mediate; he isn’t common ground anymore. She doesn’t know who started it or what happened to propel it but they seek each other out now, just the two of them. They make common ground when there is none. She learns to understand him better, to read his face, to unfurl the words he willingly gives. In turn she notices the way he always leaves the last portion of food to her, the way his fingers tuck her hair when it escapes the back of her ear (this has only happened twice, and only when they’re alone), the way he doesn’t let her carry anything when they’re walking together. 

She knows he won’t hurt her. Not anymore, not again. She knows she is safe with him. Sakura knows because he _shows_ her. 

He’s still a menace in combat. She trained with Lee for the better part of her chuunin days but Sasuke is on a whole different level. While Lee specializes in taijutsu and his speed is unrivaled, Sasuke has raw power only he possesses. Sasuke is fast, but Sakura is too; the challenge is that he’s strong. His hits, when they land, _hurt._

They’ve agreed to only stick to basic taijutsu. He cannot use his ocular powers and she cannot infuse chakra to her fists. Like in the academy. Though he never sparred with her back then, and to be completely honest she didn’t want to spar with him either. At ten years old, Sasuke was frightening, cool, and completely on another level. She would rather give him chocolates than fend off his blows. 

At eighteen, Sakura knows her taijutsu is excellent. She did train under Tsunade after all. It cemented her belief in her skill even further when she discovered that Sasuke wasn’t even holding himself back. In fact, after thirty minutes of a push-and-pull fight, his actions started to become desperate, which she could only take to mean that she was gaining on him. 

Sakura managed to land a good blow to the side of his head when he grabbed her calf and flipped her over. Then she was falling with him right behind her. It was one of his first attacks, she remembered when they were genin. Shishi rendan, he called it. She smirked at his arrogance, using a move that she knew how to counter. She pulled him down to speed with her, their fall forming a small crater on the ground. 

That was only the beginning. They went on for three more hours. 

“Let me look at your head.” Sakura pants. Her eyes see a bruise starting to bloom there. 

He staggers to where she’s sitting and kneels so her hands can reach him. She moves closer to examine it. Her fingers pry at the skin of his temples. Sasuke hisses in pain.

“Sorry,” she says remorsefully. The telltale green glow of her healing jutsu is beginning to light up in her palm. She feels him relax under her fingers as she heals him. “You didn’t stop by the hospital.”

“What for.” 

“Your checkup, idiot. For your arm. And it’s mandatory to head to the hospital after missions now. Kakashi-sensei must have told you something.”

“Stop hovering.” Sasuke grumbles but remains pliant in her hands. “You aren’t hurt?”

“You landed a good one here,” She twists her shoulder. “But it’s healing itself already.”

His eyes focus on the mark on her forehead. “Right.”

He is in the hospital the following day. 

A knock echoes through her office right before lunch. Thinking it must be Mayuki with some files Sakura asked her to get, she calls for her to come in, not even looking up from the textbook she’s reading.

“Sakura.” It’s Sasuke. 

“Shit,” Sakura bumps her knee on the desk at the sound of his voice. 

“Sorry.” 

“Sasuke,” she says. “I’m fine.”

He remains impassive by her door. 

She raises her brows, wondering why he’s inside the hospital when he so clearly detests it. 

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You told me to get a check up.”

Realization dawns on her. “Oh! Right. I did. Well,” she gestures to the examination table. “Sit.”

She never expected him to obey her. He doesn’t even obey Kakashi-sensei, the highest ranking shinobi in the village.

She gets her supplies from a drawer while Sasuke takes a seat at the table, tenser than a slab of wood. 

“Relax.” Sakura pulls on her stethoscope. 

“I am.” He carps. Not that she buys it.

She talks him through it anyway. People feel better, more in control, when they know what’s going on. “I’m going to start now. Did the nurse take your physical before you came in? Breathe in for me.”

“No.” He inhales. His heartbeat is strong, almost erratic. That usually isn’t a good thing. 

“It’s fine. You can use my weighing scale later. Did you drink last night?”

“No.”

“Coffee?”

“No.”

“I’m going to check your lungs, if it’s alright. Turn around please. Breathe in again. Good.”

His lungs are fine, and after going through standard procedure, his heart is the only thing she finds that’s troubling. 

“Are you having any trouble with your eyes?”

“No.” He says, as tense as when they began. He isn’t lying.

“How about your arm?”

“...Yes.”

“Can I?” He angles himself towards her so that she could take a look at it. “If I press here, does it hurt?”

He shakes his head ‘no’.

“It’s healing nicely though. Phantom pain?”

Sasuke nods.

Sakura activates her chakra as she lets her hand soothe over the stump. “How often?”

“Always.”

“You know,” she frowns. “The prosthetics are -”

“No.” He says firmly.

As a medic, Sakura can’t do anything but respect his decision to refuse it. The least she could do is try everything in her power to make it better. She moves to stand, hands abandoning their former ministrations.

“What are you -”

Her hands hover beside his temples like they did yesterday at the training field. “I’m not sure if it’ll work but we can try.”

“Try?”

“Phantom limb pain is said to be caused by the brain and the spinal cord. There’s no sufficient evidence yet but…”

“That feels good.”

She bites her lip. That was why he looked so relaxed when she healed his head yesterday. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Stop hovering.”

“Stop being rude. You know you can tell me if you aren’t feeling well.”

“Sakura. I’m fine.”

“You’re not. Once I stop, it might come back and then you won’t say anything about what’s bothering you _again -_ ”

“Sakura,” he drawls. “I’ll tell you next time.”

“You will?”

“Hn.”

“Good.”

Silence. He’s closing his eyes, she sees from the bottom of her nose. It might be the only time she’s taller than Sasuke. She decides not to bother him for a while. It might only be a few minutes that she can keep this up but she’d rather give him all of it after the pain he’s been through with his arm.

“Aren’t you tired?” He asks, eyes still closed.

She shifts her weight to her left foot. “No.”

He smirks. “Liar.”

“I do 20-hour surgeries.”

“You don’t do it crouching over an examination table.”

“I’m not crouching.” She isn’t. She’s standing perfectly straight, hands on Sasuke’s temples, body nestled between his thighs. She doesn’t know how they got this way. Usually, with her patients during physical workups, she remains a respectful distance, only ever prodding when needed. Given, her usual patients don’t need her hands cradling the side of their heads for extended periods of time, but still. He must have made room for her when she shifted to put her palms on his temples.

“Sakura, stop.” He says.

“You don’t want me to stop.”

“Tch.”

“Did the nurse tell you to come here?” She asks instead.

“No. They told me to wait in the examination room.”

“And you didn’t?”

“I don’t like other people touching me -”

“Sakura-sama, I got the files from the intelligence division you asked me to - oh.”

Sakura jumps away, her stethoscope falls to the ground, she whirls and her neck snaps, all of it happening so fast that the next time she turns back to see Sasuke, he’s already standing, getting ready to leave. 

“I’m sorry.” Mayuki stammers. “I - I didn’t realize you had a patient, Sakura-sama.”

Sakura, in the years she’s been in the medical field, never _blushed_ because someone walked in on her doing her job. She clears her throat, trying to compose herself. “It’s alright, Mayuki. Hand me Uchiha-san’s chart on the desk, please.”

Mayuki does as she’s bid, but Sakura hears a soft _‘wow’_ coming from the girl’s lips. For someone so sure of herself, so comfortable in her skin, Mayuki actually stammers and turns as red as a tomato. Sakura sees her hands shake as she takes the chart too. The girl’s eyes can’t seem to leave Sasuke but they can’t seem to look at him at the same time. 

“Now,” Sakura puts on a professional air to salvage whatever’s left of her dignity before Sasuke all but sprints out. He looks about ready to. “I’m a bit worried about your heart but the rest of your body’s in good condition. It might be caused by the soldier pills you took while traveling, but if you feel strange or if it persists come back right away, you understand?”

“Hn.”

She glances at his arm. “And you’ll tell me if it hurts again?”

“Yes.”

She hands him a clearance slip. “Give this to Kakashi-sensei so he can put you back on the official roster.”

“Hn.” He takes it and leaves the office.

“Oh my god.” Mayuki whispers after he’s gone. 

“Sakura-chan!” A voice so loud it slices through the crowded street calls. She doesn’t need to turn around to know it’s Naruto waving like crazy. “Come here! Eat lunch with us!”

“Shut up, idiot.” Sasuke murmurs darkly. 

“You shut up, idiot.” Naruto answers back.

Sakura makes her way to the old chicken joint. It’s impossible to refuse Naruto even more now that they’ve gotten older. She arrives at their table by the side of the shop to see Sasuke scooting further on his bench, making room for her to sit. She takes it gladly and dumps her shopping bags full of textbooks on the ground. 

“Sai?” She asks.

“Mission.” Naruto says. 

“It’s been a while since I saw him.” Sakura muses. 

“It’s been a while since I saw _you,_ Sakura-chan. The bastard’s got you all to himself.”

“I saw you yesterday, Naruto.”

“Yeah, but it was only for ten minutes!”

“It’s not my fault you’re busy.”

“It’s not my fault either.” He whines.

“You want the position, now you have to do the work.”

“But it’s boring, Sakura-chan. I used to do really cool stuff. Now I’m stuck reading stupid petitions.”

Sakura only rolls her eyes. Sasuke smirks. “The village is going to crash and burn once Kakashi steps down.”

Sakura pinches him. Hard. 

“And he isn’t helping either.” Naruto points an accusatory finger at their teammate. 

“Why would I?”

“You could at least show some support from time to time but no, all you do is hang around Sakura-chan -”

They’re saved from the blond’s litany, thankfully, by the arrival of lunch. 

“No ramen today?” Sakura asks.

“Tch. I told him I wouldn’t eat with him if he takes me to Ichiraku.”

“Not like he needs any more.”

“Can you two stop whispering about me?”

Sasuke only leans back on the bench.

“I know you’re both supposed to be, like, super smart so get your heads out of your asses already.”

“What’s your problem now?” Sakura sighs.

“Both of you - bah! Never mind. I’ll shut up.”

“Can you?” Sasuke prods.

Sakura takes a bite of the sweet chicken. Their playful hostility is comforting. It was hard to achieve this a year ago with everyone watching what they can and can’t say. She’s glad they’re getting through it. They banter back and forth while Sakura listens, occasionally piping in to pull back their attacks. 

“When are you leaving, anyway?” Naruto slurps through his food.

Sakura feels Sasuke tense beside her. 

“The day after tomorrow.” He answers curtly. 

“Leaving?” Sakura’s brows furrow.

Naruto looks up from his meal, realizing what he’s done. If looks could kill, Naruto would be on the ground ten times over. 

“You’re leaving again.” Sakura repeats.

“Hn.”

“Oh.”

Moments pass by. For the first time during the meal, Naruto is silent.

“Well, boys,” Sakura stands, schooling a bright smile on her face. “My lunch break will be over soon. I have to go.”

“Um - yeah, Sakura-chan. I’ll see you around.”

“Fuck. Why didn’t you tell her, asshole?” Naruto grumbles once he thinks she’s out of earshot. 

Sasuke leaves again, this time she doesn’t send him off. She schedules a surgery that she could have easily delegated to her staff the morning he leaves. She spends her time elbow deep in intestines while Sasuke waits for her to show up at the village gates.

She’s mad at him. If he just _told_ her then she might have understood. She knows he cannot stay in the village for too long, she knows how hard it is for him, but he should have told her he was leaving again. If Naruto didn’t slip was he just going to go without her knowing? Send her a pebble from Iwa? 

She’s furious. So she creates a balm. Sakura sends it to him after a month.

_Sasuke,_

_It’s still experimental, but it might alleviate the pain._

_Love,_

_Sakura_

A letter arrives a week later through a hawk she recognizes as his summon.

_Sakura,_

_I’m in Snow. Spring is here. The princess still remembers you. I’ll be home in 20 days._

_Sasuke_

A month has never gone slower. Sakura spends time with Ino, gossiping at the flower shop while they hold off things they should be doing. Ino succeeded her father as Yamanaka clan head and chief of the intel division, so she’s busier now more than ever. But there are times when Sakura catches her holding shop, so she hangs around under pretense of helping.

Her life is in Konoha, but Sasuke is on the other side of the continent. She feels his presence just as much when he is not around. 

Sakura waits by the gates from sunup to sundown. It’s getting silly, she knows, and people passing by are giving her strange looks already. She sits by the bench once her feet get strained. 

The sun set three hours ago. It’s been 20 days since the letter - she counted like her life depended on it - but Sasuke isn’t home yet. The time of night that people go out to eat and walk around the shops has come and gone, and still Sakura waits. She sits by the bench and trusts that he will come home. 

Even Izumo and Kotetsu give her sympathetic looks by the time the moon is high. Eventually they leave too after getting relieved of their shift by the newer shinobi Sakura doesn’t recognize. She stands up, deciding walking in circles will keep her awake better than sitting. 

No harm could possibly have come to him on the road. He can defeat common thieves and bandits without breaking a sweat. Shinobi would recognize him and immediately walk away. He must not have been ready to come back yet. It’s the only plausible explanation. She’s used to heartbreak, she reminds herself. 

She’s used to heartbreak, she reminds herself, as she sees a dark figure approaching from the horizon. 

Before she knows it, she’s running so fast she’s afraid her sandals might fall off. The chuunin guards bellow at her ‘ _come back’_ and ‘ _where does she think she’s going’_ but Sakura’s already too far off to hear them. Her pulse is ringing in her ears, her blood is rushing to her head, her arms are wrapping around him as she vaults to his body. Sasuke is back, and she is here to welcome him home. 

“I’m sorry.” She clutches him closer. He’s still tall and lean and strong and _Sasuke._

“It was my fault.” He admits.

She can’t help but let out a small giggle. She should be mad. She was mad for the whole time he was away. But now she doesn’t seem to care about anything other than that he’s home. “Yeah. It was. Okaeri, Sasuke.”

“Tadaima, Sakura.” He walks her to her door and says goodnight.

“I can’t accept this.”

“Take it.” He shoves the box crudely back to her.

“No, Sasuke-kun.”

“Yes, Sakura.”

“Stop pushing it around like that!” She wants to clutch the wooden box to her chest, if only to save it from his innescant _pushing_.

“You’re pushing it back.”

“Because I can’t accept it.”

He looks at her like she’s gone insane. He should be looking at a mirror, Sakura thinks to herself. 

“Take it.” His patience is thinning. It was never very thick to begin with.

“You can’t just give me diamonds!” She whispers, even though they’re in his kitchen and it’s only the two of them and it’s 10 in the morning on a tuesday. 

“They’re earrings.” He says.

She swears she feels a nerve pop in her forehead. “Yes. I know what they are.”

“So?”

Sasuke can be such a child sometimes.

“So you don’t just go out giving diamonds!”

“Why not?”

“Because you don’t.” She sputters. Is he dumb?

“Tch. Fucking annoying. If you don’t want it then fine.”

He moves to put back the box in his pocket. Five minutes ago, before the full blown argument (and what’s to become a full blown murder scene, Sakura thinks darkly), she was completely calm, reading on the kitchen counter while Sasuke was cooking breakfast. She arrived even earlier in the morning, holding a pack of sake for tonight when the team would come over. He asked her to stay. She can’t very well refuse his breakfast, can she? But then he just ups and decides to pull out an ornate little box and hand it to her like it was an appetizer. Curious, she popped it open to reveal two identical diamonds as big as very large pebbles, reflecting the sunlight streaming in from her back. She closed it like it was a forbidden scroll that flapped open. And then she pushed it towards him. 

“Wait!” She cries. “Are they really for me?”

Sasuke rolls his eyes. She knows he’d poke her forehead if he isn’t already holding a spatula in his hand. He drops it on the counter and fishes the box out of his pocket again and places it gingerly on the table, eyeing her suspiciously.

She eyes him back. Sakura opens the box gently again. The inside is lined with red, cushioned velvet, and nestled at the center is a pair of diamond earrings, so peaceful and unassuming they look asleep. Sakura saw them a while ago before she knew what to expect, but they look even more opulent the second time around. A teardrop diamond hangs from each of the already very large circular gems that serve as studs. It would dangle if she wears it, the thought comes to Sakura without warning. 

She gets a bit slack jawed, glancing up at Sasuke. His face remains impassive, but that isn’t a surprise. The slight jerk of his movements tells her he’s anxious as to what she’s about to say.

“It’s beautiful, Sasuke,” she tells him and she means it. She can’t help it that her eyes start to sting. “Are you sure these are for me?”

“Sakura.” He warns.

“Okay, okay.” She laughs. “What’s the occasion?”

Sasuke mumbles, “you passed your jounin exams.”

“That was a year ago.” Still, she can’t take her eyes off the glittering earrings. “Did you get this when you went to Snow?”

He shakes his head. She frowns. She assumed he got it while he was travelling. 

“It was my mother’s.” He explains, almost shy.

She almost jumps to get across the kitchen counter separating them as she hugs him. Her head fits perfectly in the crevice of his throat, she realizes. This time, she is the one that thanks him.

Team Seven game night is a riot. It’s mostly Sakura and Naruto that play the games while three men watch on and get hammered on sake. Sakura can outdrink them all. It’s almost impossible to get her drunk. Naruto says it’s more legendary than her fist. She still isn’t sure if it’s because of her byakugou or if it’s an innate skill or if it’s something she picked up from apprenticing Tsunade and by extension, matching her shot for shot at a very young age, but the fact remains that she can drink them all under the table. 

She’s laughing while Naruto bumbles around on the floor beside her, completely out of his head. Sai is crouching on her other side, tears in his eyes, also very drunk. Sasuke is sprawled on his couch, cheeks pink-stained, more obvious in his staring than he usually allows himself.

By the time they’re supposed to go home Naruto’s sobered up, if only by a little, hoisting a half-asleep Sai on his shoulder. “I’ll take him, you guys.” 

Sasuke’s tongue doesn’t have to be loosened by the sake to call the blond out. “Just say you’re skipping on cleaning again.”

“You should be thanking me, bastard.”

Sakura comes back from the kitchen holding a broom just as the door closes. “Did they leave?”

“Yeah.”

“Naruto, that lazy twit.”

Sasuke starts clearing the table. “Hn.”

“Here.” She hands him a wet rag. “Sasuke,”

“What?”

“Well, there’s this festival next week…” she clears her throat. “Come with me?”

He smirks. “Hn.”

Sakura bites back a grin. “Okay. I’m - Sasuke?”

There’s a bang at a coffee table, then by the time she checks to see what’s going on Sasuke is already writhing on the floor. 

“Fuck.” She goes to him quickly. “Where does it hurt?”

He grits his teeth, clutching his left arm.

“Fuck.” She mutters again, shifting his shaking form to lay on her lap. He finished the balm, he told her. No complications on the road. The thing with phantom pain is that it’s unpredictable. It could have an onset that gets delayed months, or the opposite. It could either last years or it doesn’t. She’s seen patients far worse, but she absolutely hates to see Sasuke this way. 

She soothes his head, his arm, then sends an electric current to his spine from under him. After a while the shaking finally subsides and his breathing normalizes. 

Sakura doesn’t see Sasuke after that night. 

She can feel him stay away from her. A week comes and goes and other than catching fleeting glimpses of him in the Hokage’s office, it’s radio silence. The day of the spring festival arrives and despite the lack of appearance on his part, she still takes out her kimono and ties up her hair in an intricate bun. The diamonds lay plainly in front of her dresser.

She wears them and sets off to the place she knows he’ll be. 

The Uchiha district is daunting to an outsider. The last time she was here, Sasuke was with her, guiding her through the maze of the abandoned streets. It made her feel less like an intruder than she does now. She swallows her agitation and enters. 

She finds him in the docks, sitting the same way he was all those years ago.

He must’ve felt her chakra signature - she didn’t bother repressing it - because she sees him sit a bit straighter. 

She says, “you’re avoiding me.”

“Hn.” He admits.

It’s enough to spur her on. “Why?”

“Because you don’t want this.”

“Want what, Sasuke?”

“ _This.”_ He looks at her.

“What exactly is ‘this’?”

“Don’t play dumb, Sakura.”

“I’m not playing dumb,” she hisses. “I want you to tell me.”

“Do you want to keep sobbing over my worthless body your entire life? Do you really want that for yourself? You want to be lumped with someone like me? You want to be lumped with this fucking family’s curse?”

“I don’t _care._ ” She says. “It’s you.”

His jaw clenches.

“It’s always been you. I love you.” She continues. “I’ve loved you all my life, Sasuke.”

He knows that, surely. 

Sakura swallows. “We’ll get through it. Together. I don’t care as long as I’m with you. You should know that by now.”

“It doesn’t matter, Sakura.” He says softly. “You deserve better.”

“Don’t you dare tell me what I deserve, Sasuke. We can be together. It’s as easy as that.”

He’s silent.

“You can’t shut me out. Not anymore. You love me -” she’s known it for a while now, “- you love me and that’s enough. It won’t be easy, but we’ll try.”

Sasuke inches forward, draws the pads of his thumb to her cheek, brushing against the teardrop diamonds, and wipes her tears away. “Stop crying.”

She looks up at him. “We’ll try, Sasuke.”

He gazes at her again, eyes betraying his insecurity, his vulnerability. “People… they still don’t trust me, Sakura. I’ve done a lot of things -”

She cuts him off with a finger on his lips. “I’ll be with you now.”

They don’t quite begin this way - they’ve been beginning for quite some time - but Sakura will remember the first time she put her lips on his most of all. 


End file.
